The 2017 Houston Astros are hated cheater champs. The ‘51 Giants are beloved bamboozler runners-up. Both teams stole signs. And we should be very careful not to judge the Astros by one standard and the Giants by another. And now that we've got that out of the way, let's ask the question: what happens if Houston’s human filth travel through time to play those wascally wabbits from Coogan’s Bluff? Whose sign-heist caper comes out on top?

We pick up the action with the series tied 3-3. Live from the House that Ralph Lauren Built (aka The Polo Grounds) it’s Game 7! Meeting for third time in the series, it’s Sal “The Barber” Maglie vs Jason “The Beautician” Verlander. And now for the rest of the starting lineups.    

Batting first, the Houston A-holes.  

1. George Springer – CF

2. Alex Bregman – 3B

3. Jose Altuve –2B

4. Carlos Correa—SS

5. Yuri Gurriel—1B

6. Brian McCann—C

7. Marin Gonzales—LF

8. Josh Reddick—RF

9. Justin Verlander—P

And for the resourceful New York Giants.

1. Eddie Stanky—2B

2. Alvin Dark—SS

3. Don Mueller—RF

4. Monte Irvin—LF

5. Bobby Thomson—3B

6. Whitey Lockman—1B

7.  Willie Mays—CF (Hmm. Not a bad #7 hitter)

8. Wes Westrum—C

9. Sal “The Barber” Maglie—P  

We pick up the action tied 0—0 in the top of the 4th. Garden-gnome-with-a-big-OPS Jose Altuve leads off with a line drive through the hole in left. With Correa at the plate, a passed ball by Wes Westrum moves Altuve over to 2nd. First baseman Whitey “The White Guy” Lockman yells some words of encouragement over to Westrum, who appears to be rubbing some dirt on his maimed right hand. Pop quiz:  What’s more antiquated—Westrum’s pillow mitt, Dirt-for-medicine, or the name “Whitey”?

The Barber looks in for the sign…Westrum holds up a flashcard of a barber’s pole…clever. Meanwhile, over in the ‘Stros dugout, Carlos Beltran looks like he’s up to something. Maglie steps off the mound and fires the ball at Beltran! Just under Carlos’s chin! Boy oh boy! The benches are clearing! And Altuve’s rounding 3rd! It looks like we’re to about to have us an old fashioned brouhaha! And a play at the plate! Westrum is acting like a complete psychopath trying to get to the ball! Unclear where the morning star came from, but it sure is effective! Westrum’s got the ball! He fires to Maglie covering home! And Altuve is…..out at the plate! Quite a throw for a man with the mangled throwing claw of a 1950s catcher! None of the other players seem to realize what happened at the plate because they are otherwise engaged. This is a level 5 fracas that looks like it will continue for just enough time for us to take commercial break, for Wheaties. What sparks a champion sparks you.

I wouldn’t even know. where to begin to recap that donnybrook, other than to say that the Astros players threw more MMA style jump punches and roundhouse kicks, whereas the Giants used the more fundamentally sound Greco-Roman takedowns they probably learned in gym class. I will also say that that the Stanky-Altuve Angry Dwarf Death Match was electrifying!

Sign stealing has led to a shocking level of violence that’s been a major theme of this series.  First the Giants figured out the Astros were stealing their signs. Which triggered a rumpus. Then the Astros realized the Giants were stealing their signs. Which sparked a melee. Over the course of the series, both teams have devised highly intricate signal systems. And remained determined to crack the other team’s code. However, their methods couldn’t be more different.  

Carlos Beltran was involved early on, but then the Astro built an Ultron, put him in a ballcap and uniform, and made him their bench coach. Ultron uses his AI to tap into every camera feed in the world simultaneously and instantly deciphers the other team's signs. He bangs a trash can every time he knows it’s a breaking ball, then Oscar the Grouch pops out and screams “I love trash!”. Another way to think of the Astro's scandal: they were a bunch of trash banging cheaters.

For the Giants’ part, they may be cheating, but they’re doing it in the sleekest possible way, with Blackbeard style retractable pirate telescopes and a team of highly decorated Navajo Code Talkers posted out in center field.     

We’ll see how much those American heroes can decode over the last few innings, as we’re through 6 and a half, with the score 2-1, A-Holes. Time for 7th Inning Stretch. Honorary Giants bench coach (and Leo Durocher golfing buddy) Frank Sinatra gets a uuuuge ovation as he heads out to the fields to sing “Take Me Out to the Ball Game.” He’s no Fergie, but this should still be good.  So should the nickname battle, which, if you ask me, could be an even bigger factor than sign styling in determining the outcome…..

The Giants’ Nicknames

Sal “The Barber” Maglie (you probably figured that out by now), The Long Island Scotsman (Bobby Thomson), The Say Hey Kid, The Brat (Eddie Stanky), Mandrake the Magician (Don Mueller), Leo “The Lip” Durocher, Whitey “The White Guy" Lockman

The Astros Nicknames

Tuve, La piña (Yuril Guerriel), Horhay (Springer), JV (Verlander’s secondary nickname), and…big finish …..A-Breg.

La piña (The Pineapple) is pretty good. But the rest? Eeesh. A-Breg sounds like the sound your great-uncle makes when he clears his throat. And your uncle will be happy to know…This nickname battle goes to the Giants.

Bottom of the 7th. Stanky leads off and bloops a 0-2 slider into right for a base hit. Dark steps up to the plate. He looks over to Doroucher at 3rd for the sign. He takes one right..down..central for strike one. Dark steps out, steps back in. Stanky leads off first. Oh my. Stanky is really licking his lips over at Dark. Nothing subtle there. Either those two are more than just double play partners or—just as I suspected! Stanky was putting on the hit-and-run! Modern statistical models may not like it! But anyone can see that Dark and Stanky venture worked like a charm! And the Giants have runners on first and third!

Don Mueller steps to the plate in with the Astros in one of their bull shits—excuse me, I mean bold shifts. Gurriel’s deep at first, Altuve’s playing in short right field, Correa’s sitting in a leather recliner behind second, and Bregman is juggling flaming chainsaws while hovering in a jetpack in shallow left. It’s what the algorithm said to do.  

Hmm. Does the Astro's Nerd Cave not know that Mueller's nickname is Mandrake the Magician? Because of the bat control genius that makes him bold-shift proof? Sure, enough, Mandrake reaches down for a back door slider and knocks it off a flaming chainsaw and into center. We're tied at 2!

The Giants fail to add any more in the 7th as Verlander strikes out the side. He still looks strong. Could be he’s made an adjustment to increase the spin rate on his slider. Or it could be that the Giant’s hitters are distracted by the black dress Kate Upton is wearing behind the 3rd base dugout. Oh my.

Moving onto the top of the 8th, lead-off man George Springer steps in to face Maglie. Springer is 1-3 with a double along with a brilliant running catch out in center. He and Mays have been trading great catches all series long.  Springer takes one over a bit low, ball one. Maglie looks frustrated with the call, he’s talking to himself a bit. Sal looks in for the sign, winds up and delivers. Fastball, Springer knocks the bejesus out of it. Oh he hit that one a ton. Way out to left center. It is….gone! Astros lead it 3-2!

Durocher heads to the mound to talk to Maglie. I’m no lip reader, but I’m pretty sure Leo told Maglie “You’ve pitched great. There’s no shame in letting Jansen finish up.” To which Sal said “I’ve only thrown a hundred and eighty-five pitches, skip.  I’m fine.” And it looks like Durocher is nodding and heading back in. And it's all because of the growth mindset Sal demonstrated down in the Mexican League. Durocher is known as kind of a hard-ass, but he’s got a soft touch too. And before he left the mound, he smiled and said to Maglie, “If you’re ever gonna strike out the side, strike it out now.” And whadya know? Bregman, Altuve, and Correa, all go down swinging.  

Bottom of the 9th. Ken Giles is on for the Astros to try to close this thing out. The first batter is Alvin Dark…which seems familiar somehow. Base hit by Dark. Then a base knock by Mueller. The Giants hitters don’t look at all intimidated by that 103 mile per hour heat. Now Giles will face Monte Irvin. Base hit up the middle! And the bases are loaded! Hinch is coming out of the Dugout. He’s going to make a pitching change. Looks like Ralph Branca—check that—Dallas Keuchel will enter the game.  

Something is wrong here. Why would the Astros bring in a lefty to face Thomson? What do their advanced statistical models know that the rest of don’t?

Hinch is motioning to Correa. And the rest of the infield join Keuchel for a conference at the mound. Now Josh Reddick is running in from right field to join them. What in the world is going on?  Reddick and the infielders are jogging out to shortstop. Looks like they’re going to form a human pyramid—yes, that’s exactly what they’re going to do! Reddick and Correa are forming the base, Bregman and Gurriel are the 2nd floor, with Altuve at the top. It’s what the algorithm says to do.

Keuchel, works from the stretch, looks in. Here’s the pitch, slider, and Thomson rips it! Right into the glove of Altuve! Mueller is waaay off the bag at 2nd.  Correa and Reddick toss Altuve over toward towards 2nd! Altuve tumbles onto the bag! And Mueller is….….out!

I did not see that coming.

First and third. Two outs. Unbelievable chain of events. The Giants are down to their last out, with Whitey “The White Guy” Lockman coming to the plate. And I don’t believe this. The Astros are going to walk Lockman to get to Mays. It’s what the algorithm says to do.

Beltran and Ultron look confident in the Astros dugout. So does Oscar the Grouch. The Astros are using machine learning to make moves no human manager would dream of. And they’re going to win the game. It’s a sad day for baseball. A tragic day for humanity.

Keuchel looks in. He shakes off McCann. Now he’s nodding at the one he likes. Starts the windup. Keuchel throws. There’s a long drive! It’s going to be, I believe….Humans win! Humans win!

Mays rounds the bases! The Giants are running to join him at home plate! Unbelievable! That algorithm was…wrong! Cue up the tape of Frank Sinatra.  Wait! 1951 Sinatra’s here in person! And running out to the field with a mic in his hand to sing a 1977 song! Start spreading the news! I'm leaving today! I want to be a part of it! Humans beating machines!